


After

by Avidreader6



Series: Imagine Clint/Coulson [16]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Coulson Lives, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Getting Together, Hallucinations, Hogging the Covers, Hurt/Comfort, Loki - Freeform, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleeping Together, snoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 07:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avidreader6/pseuds/Avidreader6
Summary: For the ImagineClintCoulson prompt:Snorting, cover-hogging, sleep-kicking, literally too hot snugglemonster...tell about not so fun parts of sharing the bed with the love of one’s life. (and why it’s a small price to pay)





	After

_Before:_

Before Loki and that damn spear, that took not only Clint’s will but also his heart, he had finally gotten up the courage, with a lot of help (and vodka) from Natasha, to ask Coulson out on a date. He was tired of wondering, tired of just flirting and teasing, tired of not being able to kiss Coulson whenever he did something badass, or adorable, or sexy.

He’d planned it all out. First was fresh coffee and donuts from Phil’s favorite bakery, followed by camping out in his office on the couch. (He knew Phil used it occasionally, but it was always free for Clint). The next step was to finish the frightening tower of paperwork he’d been avoiding the past few weeks. He even made sure he left out most of his usual sarcastic comments in the margins. 

When he handed the papers over, instead of leaving as he usually did, he stayed to watch Phil’s reaction and he was not disappointed. Phil’s eyebrows had furrowed as he’s studied the forms and when he looked up at Clint, he’d frowned again in confusion. “What are you angling for with this, Clint?”

“What?”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “You only do your paperwork this legibly when you’re after something. Same with the coffee and donuts. Is it new arrows? I thought R&D had just created some experimental ones for you to play with.”

“They did, but that’s not what this is about. Knew I should have gone with flowers, but Nat said it would be too much.”

Phil neatly stacked the papers on his desk and looked Clint in the eye, mouth still in an unamused line. “Then what is it about?”

Clint scuffed his boot on the floor, eyes darting to the side, unable to look Phil in the eye. “Since my paperwork is done, and I did it nicely, and you don’t have to correct it or redo it, which means you have time off tonight. Also, there are no ops pending, I checked. What I’m trying to say is, doyouwanttogotodinnerwithme?”

“Do I want to go to dinner with you? Is that what you’re asking?”

Clint nodded before mumbling a quiet, “Yes.”

Phil smiled. “Of course I’ll go to dinner with you. We’ve done that before, Clint. Why are you so nervous now?”

“Because I don’t want this dinner to be between handler and agent, or between friends. I want it to be a date.” 

Coming around his desk, Phil stood right in front of Clint, trying to catch his eye. “A date? With me?”

Lifting his head so he could look at Phil, Clint frowned. “Of course with you. Who else?” Phil opened his mouth to retort, but Clint cut him off. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you, Phil. I want to go and get dinner with you and kiss you goodnight, and then go home and think about our next date.” 

Phil reached for Clint’s hand. “Yes. Let’s have dinner and dessert, and a goodnight kiss.”

Looking down at their entwined fingers, Clint really hoped it wasn’t a dream. “Yes? Really?”

Phil smiled again. “Really. Where did you plan on taking me on our first date?”

“That little Thai place we both like. Quiet, with a few dark corners.” 

“Perfect.” Phil gave Clint’s hand a squeeze. “Are you ready now?”

“Yes!”

“Lead the way, then.” 

They didn’t get far. Fury was waiting at the door, hand already raised to knock. “Good, you’re both here. Barton, you’ve got a mission. Don’t know how long yet, but we need your eyes. Coulson will follow after.”

“But-” Fury’s eye just narrowed and Clint’s shoulders slumped and he let go of Phil’s hand. “I’ll see you in your office, sir.” 

Clint started to leave, but Phil grabbed his elbow, stopping him. He placed a soft kiss to the corner of Clint’s mouth, not caring if Fury saw, they both needed this kiss. “I’m not going anywhere, Clint. After all this, we’ve got a date.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Clint held onto that promise while watched the tesseract. Not much happens with the glowing cube. It pretty much just sits there and glows. There’s not much to do but set up his nest, daydream about his upcoming date, and listen to Selvig and his scientists talk a lot of numbers and terms Clint could never even begin to guess what they meant. He does understand one thing, though, this cube can be a door, and that meant trouble. 

Everything goes to shit the day Clint is finally supposed to see Phil again. Instead of getting to take Phil out to the most romantic dinner the cafeteria can provide, what he gets is the point of a spear pressed against his chest. After that, everything is tinted an icy blue and a pervasive cold settles deep in his bones.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_After:_

After is seeing in color again, the first of which is a flash of bright red before Natasha manages her “cognitive recalibration”. Clint’s head is pounding, but he doesn’t care because he is himself again. He wants to ask after Phil, but Nat’s eyes are haunted and sad. It’s an expression Clint has never seen before and it worries him. 

It’s not until they are on the quinjet with the actual Captain America that he finally has the guts to ask. Both Natasha and the Captain look away and Clint feels his heart start to splinter. 

Rogers says he’s sorry and Clint wants to snarl and say he never even knew Phil. Natasha lays a slim hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and Clint’s focus is back on flying. “After, Clint. We’ll mourn him together.”

Clint hates that word. It’s what Phil promised when Fury sent him to watch the Tesseract. “After.” Such a simple word, but it had promised him so much.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After Hulk catches Stark before he can be a smear on the pavement, and they save the day, they’re all sitting there eating their shwarma, all Clint can feel is cold and numb. He knows Natasha is there beside him, one eye on him, the other on their food. 

After, the two of them and Rogers go back to SHIELD and try to get some rest. Clint doesn’t sleep, though, he doesn’t even try, he just sits on his bunk and stares at all the little things Phil has given him over the years and tries not think about all the damage he caused. A week later, Stark is there with his usual cocksure grin and an offer. Clint is the first to accept, eager to get out from the watchful eyes of every SHIELD agent who feels he betrayed them. He’s even more eager to get away from being surrounded by all the things (and there are a lot) that make him think of Phil. 

After, Stark gives them each their own floor and Clint notices none of the details Stark put in to try and make it home. He just goes to the bedroom and crawls into the too big bed, wrapping the covers around himself. He stirs only when Natasha joins him and he’s thankful when all she does is curl around him, whispering nonsense neither of them believes. 

After months of forced leave and of weekly visits to the SHIELD psychiatrist, Clint is finally allowed back on duty. While he waited to be cleared, he kept busy doing cleanup with the Avengers, and he likes it. It makes him feel better. Makes him feel like he’s doing something good. Something to help make up for the horrible things he did as Loki’s puppet. 

After Tony, Clint can’t think of him as just Stark anymore, holds fundraisers and benefits to help rebuild and they all go. Clint sticks close to Natasha and watches as Tony puts on his public face and charms the rich out of their money. Steve stays close to Tony, eyes never straying too far from the genius. Clint and Nat share a knowing smile and Nat pulls Clint onto the dance floor, hoping to distract him. 

After another fundraiser, Pepper gives them the sign they’ve served their and they’re allowed to leave. It’s Clint who ditches first, looking forward to having the limo to himself so he can lean his head back and close his eyes. He’s hoping that all the excitement tonight means he will finally get some sleep that doesn’t include nightmares. He hopes he won’t be crawling into Natasha’s bed looking for comfort again. He dozes in the car and his jaw cracks while he yawns in the elevator. 

After the elevator stops on his floor, Clint almost doesn’t notice that his TV is on, almost. It’s only when he hears Jo Frost’s voice that he stops in his tracks. “It’s a little early for this nightmare. I’m not even in bed yet. Maybe I’m still in the limo. Hope I don’t scare Happy.”

The figure on his couch stands slowly, movements stiff and Clint starts to back up toward the wall. Lately, Phil has just sat near him telling him how it was all his fault. When Phil actually stands and comes for him, it means it’s going to be a very long night. “Please, please, please. I’m sorry. So sorry. I’m so tired, I just want to sleep. Please, I can’t see you anymore.”

Clint’s eyes are closed, hands covering his face. He slides down the wall to the floor and he doesn’t even notice when the figure kneels before him and takes his hands. “Clint, it’s okay. Please, look at me.”

“No, no, no. You’re not real. I know you’re not. You can’t be.”

“Clint? Give me a chance to prove it to you?”

Leaning his head back against the wall, Clint looks at the Phil hallucination and decides to humor it. “Sure, go ahead.”

Phil leans forward and kisses him, just once. It’s just a brush of lips against Clint’s, but it feels more real than any of the other times Dream Phil has kissed him. “JARVIS, can you confirm that I am really Phillip J. Coulson.”

“Of course, Agent Coulson. Sir has had your details programmed in since you met.”

Eyes wide, Clint stares at Phil, taking in every detail. The more he looks, the more he can see the differences. Real Phil is pale and there are dark circles under his eyes. He’s wearing SHIELD sweats and a faded, Rangers tee. Dream Phil always wears Clint’s favorite suit and it is always freshly pressed. “You’re real. And alive. Phil, please, tell me. You’re really real?”

“I’m real. I promise. I am so sorry, Clint. I’ve been in the hospital. Only woke up about a month ago. They wouldn’t let me leave til I was stronger. But I wanted to. I tried. You need to know that. I wanted to get back here. To you. We’ve got a date.”

Clint can feel the tears going down his face. He still can’t believe Phil is really here. He’s really alive and in his apartment. “Phil?”

“Yes?”

“Can we, do you want to, will you. Can we just go to bed? We can go on our date tomorrow, okay? Right now, I just need you close. Need to feel you near me.”

Taking his time standing, Phil holds out his hand to Clint. “Yes. We can do that. I want to be near you too.”

Clint takes Phil’s outstretched hand, jolting a little at the warmth of it. Dream Phil’s hands had always been steady and cool and dry. Real Phil’s hands are hot and trembling and Clint can feel the familiar calluses. In the bedroom, they both strip down to their briefs and climb into bed. Phil knows Clint is watching him, eyes cataloging every expression to ensure he’s not in pain. Once he’s settled, he turns his head to look at Clint, still perched on the edge of the bed. “Clint, please? I promise I won’t break.”

Slowly sliding closer, Clint lays his head on Phil’s shoulder and watches his chest move as he breathes. “Sorry. Still a little in shock.”

Getting his arm around Clint, Phil’s fingers unerringly find one of the scars from Budapest and trace over it. “Me too, Clint.” Phil yawns, eyes fluttering as he tries to fight to stay awake. “But we’re both here, and I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I will be here when you wake up.”

Clint watches Phil drift off before rolling to his side and gently laying his arm over Phil’s stomach. With Phil’s arm around him, Clint finds it easy let sleep take him. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two months later, Phil wakes in Clint’s bed, sweaty, bladder full. Clint is clinging to him like the cuddly octopus he is, breathing deeply as his dreams continue. He doesn’t know how it happened, but Clint has managed to get both arms around his body, as well as his head on his chest. Phil tries to extricate himself from Clint’s grip, only for Clint to shuffle even closer, throwing his leg over Phil’s thigh to try and trap him. “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Clint reluctantly releases Phil, grabbing for the blankets Phil had kicked to the floor in the middle of the night and burrowing under them. When Phil comes back, he stands next to the bed and chuckles at the massive pile of blankets that used to be his boyfriend. Clint has always needed a ton of blankets since he is almost always cold. After Loki, it was even worse. He needed the heat on as well as the blankets and the room felt like a sauna. Now, almost all of them end up on the floor by morning since Phil gets hot and starts kicking them off the bed, which then leads to Clint cuddling closer for warmth.

Lifting one corner of the blanket, Phil peered under, trying to find Clint. “It is not that cold.”

There’s a snort from somewhere under the pile and as soon as Phil gets back into bed, he finds himself with an armful of archer once again. “Is too. But you’re so warm. And you’re awake, so no snoring.”

Rubbing Clint’s back, Phil pinched his ass. “I don’t snore.”

Clint yelped and snuggled closer. “Do too. But it’s cute. More like little snuffles. Rather listen to you snore than be in bed alone.”

Rolling them over so he can on top of Clint, Phil wiggles against him, pressing kisses to his neck. “Is this when I say I’d rather have you kicking me than wake up alone?” 

Clint nips at Phil’s jaw and rolls them again. “I don’t kick.” Sucking a mark on Phil’s neck, he starts to drift down Phil’s body. “Now hush. Morning sex.”

Wrapping his leg around Clint’s waist, Phil arches up and lets a filthy moan escape his lips. “Yes. Clint, kiss me, please?”

“Haven’t brushed my teeth, yet.”

“Fuck. Please, go brush, or kiss me. I don’t care. Lazy, not getting out of bed, morning sex will happen, after.”

Clint shivered and hurried out of bed to brush his teeth. This was one, _after_ , he was okay with.


End file.
